


The Play's The Thing

by Missy



Category: The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.
Genre: Backstory, Committed Relationship, Fade to Black, Getting Together, Helping out, Humor, Multi, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Post-Canon, Public Confessions, Romance, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 06:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15925199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Bowler and Brisco help Dixie out during the debut of her new stage show - which leads to a public confession of a relationship that's been percolating for some time.





	The Play's The Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/gifts).



Brisco and Bowler rode into San Francisco in a lather, running to get to the proper spot in the proper amount of time without getting themselves killed.

“Damn it, Brisco, I told you stopping for chow was a bad idea!” Bowler said. They were racing up Main Street now, and would likely make it in time after all, but they’d cut it awfully close.

“If we don’t make it to town before Dix’s first show at the Palace starts, I might as well call our relationship ancient history,” Brisco said. Comet whickered, and Brisco frowned. “Hey, I think we’re both past the flower-sending stage by now.” Snorting. “I know that! But flowers say less than us sitting in front of the stage on opening night!”

“Comet, pay attention,” Bowler glowered. “You have to watch the – ROAD!” he yelled. For right into the middle of their pathway had walked a couple of set builders for Dixie’s show – complete with wooden painted cows for her Little Bo Peep number.

Bowler stopped his horse in time and nearly skidded off its back. Brisco and Comet weren’t so lucky, barreling right through the center of the painted backdrop and managing to land head-first in a trough. 

His less than elegant entrance wasn’t exactly what Brisco was hoping for, but at least he was intact. Unfortunately for him, the crash also drew a large crowd to the scene. He got up laughing with Bowler’s help, while Comet drank from the other end of the trough.

“Are you boys having fun?” a lazy voice asked from on high. It was Dixie, standing in her opening number outfit, a tule-and-black-laced orchid-colored thing. 

Brisco just grinned at her like a fool. Bowler’s response, as usual, was more gentlemanly. “Miss Dixie,” Bowler said, automatically taking of his hat.

“When are you going to stop calling me Miss Dixie and start calling me…beloved? Turtle dove?” She strolled down the stairs, carefully kissing Brisco’s cheek.

Bowler frowned. “I wanna call you something cute that won’t make me throw up out my nose.”

“Keep working on that.” She kissed Bowler's cheek, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss Brisco a little more gingerly – trying to avoid getting wet from his dunked outfit. “Well, fellas,” Dixie said lazily, hands tucked against her lace-coated hip, “This was the kind of welcome I was hoping for. Though I can’t say I approve of you busting up the fine scenery Beauregard has worked so hard to paint…”

“Sorry about that,” said Brisco. “Comet doesn’t have breaks like a horseless carriage.” Comet snorted contemptuously. “I didn’t say that’s a bad thing,” he told the horse.

“Well, since I don’t have a backdrop, I was wondering if you could help me out. I do need some atmosphere for my Bo Peep number…”

“No!” Bowler said.

“…And I do have two lamb costumes, size tall, waiting in the wings…”

Bowler groaned. “Dixie!”

“We’ll do it, Dix!” Brisco said. 

“What do you mean we?!” Bowler said.

“Well, I do need two lambs,” she pointed out. “And I’d rather you boys be up there with me instead of two of the stagehands. You’ve seen it all, after all….”

Bowler frowned. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m not gonna sing along!”

“But Bowler, your singing voice is beautiful!” said Brisco.

“How do you know that?” Bowler glowered.

Brisco had one of those gleams in his eyes - one that suggested mischief was right around the corner and that things were going to get a little dicey. And he definitely couldn't tell him just why he remembered the beauty of Bowler's singing voice. “Let’s just say I’ve been privileged to listen to many concerts of yours when you weren’t paying attention to my presence.”

“You’ve been listening when I sing in the tub. Big deal,” Bowler glowered.

“Boys. No fighting on my opening night.” She kissed Bowler, and then Brisco, upon their cheeks. “Now be sweet and I’ll see you onstage. Or Miss Dixie will tend to her own flock tonight.”

They watched her sashay away, then stared at the long staircase leading up to the backstage area. “When in Rome, Bowler,” Brisco said, gesturing before him.

“If I were in Rome I’d be having spaghetti while drinking a fine Cabernet,” said Bowler. But he tromped up the back staircase beside Brisco, jaw set resolutely.

 

 

****

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The union between the three of them – much like Brisco and Bowler’s original partnership – was Dixie’s bright idea. Brisco, as always, was happy to give her credit for her genius notions – though he wasn’t happy that this one popped up. They’d been sharing a motel room in Dutch’s Creek, she’d blown into Bowler’s ear by mistake and well – one thing had led to another, and they’d educated each other in ways they’d never expected to be educated.

The ceremony had been symbolic, held in the desert with Comet as their only witness. For legal purposes Dixie was legally tied to Brisco in California and to Bowler in Reno. Having a series of double identities and a sister who all but ran the town certainly helped to ensure that no one asked questions about their licenses or raised questions of bigamy. "We'll just say we're Mormon," she had joked lightly, and Bowler had grimaced and glowered, his sensibilities offended while Brisco made philosophical hash of the situation. Since they were a team inside and outside of the bounty hunting partnership, it was imperative to act like one wherever they roamed - even when they were forced to pretend to be cows when the man they'd hired ran away with an evening's take, even if they had to be sheep baaing along with Dixie’s provocative song about lambs going astray. 

If Brisco had been initially worried about how the act itself would go that evening, in the end he had nothing to worry about. The songs ended up working fairly well thanks to their easy, smooth chemistry and sense of partnership. Brisco thought that he had managed to acquit himself fairly well even as he found himself hamming it up a little, taking one more bow than he should have, which caused him to stumble forward and accidentally step on the hat of one of Dixie’s patrons.

“I’m sorry!” he said.

The man stood up, adjusting his gun belt. “That’s my good hat! My go meeting hat! Your sorrys ain’t going to fix it!”

“Let’s…work this out like adults,” Brisco said.

“Time for that’s passed…” He reached down to his beltline, where Brisco assumed a gun was stored. He reached for his own belt and Bowler reached for his chest holster.

Dixie knew where this was going – she had excellent instincts and knew to intervene before things went too far sideways. “Now hold on a second!” Dixie cut in. “You’re not going to ruin my opening night with a brawl, fellas! And Miss Dixie does not play solo to a bunch of angry fellas. Never have, never will.”

“Says who? You and your mutts?!” He glared at Brisco and Bowler as if they’d said something truly offensive about his mother.

“Watch your mouth!” Bowler growled.

“Why?!” The man glowered. “Who's gonna make me?”

“Me!” Dixie said. “And if you want to avoid being kicked out of this concert and onto your hindquarters, I suggest you keep your thoughts a little more…private.” 

He grumbled and snorted. “Why the hell’re those two the boss of us all of a sudden? WE’RE your loyal fans; they’re just a coupla no-good background dancers! They ain’t even paid their price to get in here like we have!”

Dixie’s hackles were up; she rose to the tips of her toes and projected her voice with all of the strength in her lungs – and Brisco knew from experience that was a heckuva a lot of strength and a heck of a lot of a lot of self-belief. “Those two men happen to be my husbands!” she blurted out. Then blinked, covering her mouth. It was so unlike silver-tongued Dixie to behave without a sense of decorum, and Brisco would’ve laughed, had it not been Dixie, who would, without hesitation, be happy to call him out upon all of the occasions when he managed to misspeak.

There was a moment of blessed, peaceful silence; the sort that tended to echo through the hills and vales of the universe just before a tornado descended on the helpless and hapless. 

That was Brisco’s last though on the matter before hell promptly broke loose.

 

 

****

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There was a lot of violence and a lot of broken chairs assigned to the three of them before they managed to clear out the bar and restore some sense of order. Bowler had bruised his knee and his neck while trying to pull a couple of angry marauders off of the top of a bar, and Dixie had cut her shoulder while pulling a man off of Brisco’s back. But nonetheless they had managed to survive everything – though there would be a hefty cut taken out of Dixie’s paycheck to pay off the damages. One gun battle and a brawl later, they were several towns over and at rest, their bellies full and their bruises mending. 

The men were lying in bed waiting for her when she emerged from behind the screen, dressed to the nines in a bright flower-patterned teddy set. Bowler immediately took his hat off and pressed it to his breast. “Miss Dixie,” he said. “You look stunningly lovely.”

She rolled her eyes and sashayed toward the bed. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, honey - I don’t expect you to be a perfect gentleman in bed. In fact, I would prefer you avoid it. Just ask Brisco.” She caressed their names with honey-sweet kindness, and then sprawled out on the edge of the bed – there was no need for seduction games at this point in their relationship.

Bending over her prone form, Brisco kissed first Dixie’s painted lips then Bowler’s slight snarl. Dixie raised her head and then kissed each of them in turn, and then nudged her way between them until she was under the covers. “You boys don’t mind me telling my public the truth, do you? I figure it can’t hurt – probably adds to my wicked city woman image for some of them. And since you didn’t step away and are cohabitating with me, the dime novels probably think you’re both being downright noble by staying with me all this time.”

There was a mutual shrug shared between the two men. “I always wanted someone to come settle down with me at my vineyard,” said Bowler. “If it’s two somebodies it doesn’t make a difference. Long as I have someone to share my pinot noir with at the end of the day. Brisco?”

“The two of you know me better than anyone else in the world. You make me happy in different but completely important ways. And well…it’s involved some adjustments to my lifestyle, this marriage the three of us have…but you’re both worth it,” Brisco grinned.

And so it was decided, simply and easily between the lot of them. Dixie was the one who put the two of them together and, as far as she was concerned, she didn’t want to be the one to get between the two of them permanently. The best thing about their chosen relationships was that they didn’t require a lot of fancy talk spewed out between the three of them. So they sat as a unit together and felt their way along through life. Literally, in some cases.

Thus, with warm hands and playful tongues and exploring fingertips, they tripped their way toward pleasure. All the while, they all remembered what Dixie had said the day they’d gotten together. “Fellas, I’m no two-faced gal,” she swung her heels against the bottom of the bar and looked them each plain in the face. “I’m not lying to either of you. I’m attracted to both of you and I’m in love with both of you, for two different reasons and in two different ways. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s really how I feel.”

They had taken her seriously, even though she’d been wearing a chicken costume at the time. That, more than anything, was a tribute to how important Dixie was to them, and how important they were to Dixie. 

The best thing about their strange little family was, ultimately, that they needed each other in ways that they couldn't get with anyone else. Stumbling their way towards ecstasy, they’d found the best gift ever.

True love.


End file.
